Someone To Mark The Milestones
by RobotRollCall
Summary: Bobby never wanted kids to begin with, and he was never going to admit to anyone that watching a preschooler trying to get a toddler to walk across his kitchen floor was turning out to be one of the high points of his life. Those rugrats of John's were growing on him. (Wee-chester fluff)


"UNCLE BOBBY!" a little voice bellowed at the top of its tiny lungs.

"Whaddaya want, Dean?" Bobby replied, not looking up from the research he had spread across the table. It hadn't been a year yet that he'd known the Winchesters, but Bobby reckoned he'd spent just as much time with those boys as their daddy had (if not more). He knew that tone. No one was hurt, no one needed anything, and no one was in trouble. Dean was after attention, and if the kid wanted that, he could come into the kitchen.

A minute later, Dean appeared in the doorway, carrying his brother like an over-sized teddy bear. His arms were looped under Sam's and wrapped around his chest, and he arched back slightly to keep Sam's feet from dragging on the floor. It looked uncomfortable, particularly for Sam, who was slipping closer to the floor with each step, but Bobby figured Dean could have dragged the kid around by the ankle and not gotten much fuss out of him.

"Uncle Bobby, Sammy learned a new trick, you wanna see?" Dean asked eagerly.

"He ain't a dog, boy," Bobby chided, but Dean plunked Sam down on the floor next to the table and took a few steps back.

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean said. "Show Uncle Bobby what you can do."

Sam blinked up at Dean. "Dee," he said emphatically, reaching out for his brother to pick him up again.

Dean looked over at Bobby. "That wasn't it." He looked at Sam again. "Come on, Sammy, just like in the living room," he coaxed, making 'up' motions with his hands. "You can do it, come on."

Sam considered, then reached for the leg of the chair next to Bobby and pulled himself, mostly steadily, to his feet. He'd been pulling himself up on whatever he could reach all over the house for a while now, and Bobby had a flash of panic as he prayed the new 'trick' Dean had taught him wasn't how to climb up the furniture.

"There you go," Dean said brightly. Sam looked thoughtful for a moment, then let go of the chair. He was standing on his own. That was new.

Sam wobbled briefly on his chubby little legs, but kept his balance. "Come on, Sammy," Dean said. He stretched out his arms and waggled his fingers. "Come to Dean." Very unsteadily, but with great determination, Sam put one foot out in front of him. When he didn't fall, he did it again. And again, a little faster this time. He tottered unevenly across the kitchen floor, laughing as Dean cheered him on, and Bobby couldn't stop an idiotic grin spreading across his face.

Sam made it a good four feet before balance abandoned him and he sat down hard on the linoleum. He looked surprised to suddenly find himself back on the floor, his face scrunching up as if he was unsure whether to cry or not. But Dean was back by his side clapping and smiling. "That was great, Sammy!" he crowed, and Sam was all smiles again. "Wasn't that great, Uncle Bobby? Sammy can walk!"

"Well, would you look at that?" Bobby said, getting up from his chair. He'd never had kids—never thought he'd even wanted 'em—but you'd think they were his own boys as proud as he felt just now. "Aren't you a mighty big boy?" he beamed down at Sam. He reached down and picked him up, settling the boy on his hip. "And you know," he said, looking at Sam seriously. "I think, doing such a good job, you deserve something special. I say this calls for a cookie."

"Cookie!" Sam squealed, clapping his little hands gleefully. He didn't have much of a vocabulary yet, but he knew the important words.

Bobby winked at Dean. "Good teachers should get a cookie too, don't ya think?"

"Yeah!" Dean agreed, scrambling up into an empty chair. Bobby shifted his research to the side with one hand, grabbing a couple of the less valuable books and stacking them in a chair before depositing Sam on top of them. He returned with two Chips Ahoy cookies, a sippy cup of juice for Dean, a bottle of milk for Sam and a slightly more adult beverage for himself. "Thanks, Uncle Bobby," Dean said.

"T'a'ks," Sam agreed, grabbing for his cookie.

Bobby settled back into his chair, and after a few minutes of snacking decided to slide his research farther away from the cookie crumbs. "So is that the first time he's done that?" he asked.

"No," Dean said, wiping his mouth. "We were working on it in the living room. He did it a couple times in there first."

"Well, he's not bad. Pretty soon he'll be keeping up with you."

"Cookie?" Sam asked hopefully, holding out his hands to show that he was finished.

Bobby chuckled. "I don't think so, kiddo. More like nap time." He picked him up, dusted off the crumbs, and carried him back to the living room. Dean followed with Sam's bottle.

"C'mon, Sam," Dean said, hopping up onto the couch. He held out his arms and Bobby deposited Sam into them. Dean snuggled back into the cushions with Sam and handed him his bottle. "After naps we can practice walking some more. You'll be really good by the time Dad gets back."

Bobby pulled back into the kitchen to clean off the table, feeling a pang as he thought of John missing his son's first steps. He'd been after John to spend more time with his boys, but the young hunter was obsessed. Bobby couldn't fault him too much for that—he knew what it was like—but unlike Bobby, John actually had something left. Bobby felt guilty for being the one to see that milestone instead of him, like he was taking even more away from him.

He put his head back into the living room. Dean, his eyes nearly closed, was drowsily humming the end of a lullaby. His arm was wrapped securely around his little brother who was snoring gently into his chest. Bobby smiled fondly. John might be missing the moments that counted, but there was someone who wasn't. Truth was, Bobby hadn't been there to see little Sammy's first steps either. That was all for Dean.


End file.
